


Good To Be Back

by rveebee



Category: Red vs. Blue
Genre: Getting Together, Season/Series 15 Spoilers, Smoking, canon typical language, oh man i havent posted in forever so i absolutely forgot how to tag things, theres like one (1) cigarette but i want to be sure lmao
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-12-25
Updated: 2017-12-25
Packaged: 2019-02-20 06:18:31
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,625
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13140828
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/rveebee/pseuds/rveebee
Summary: Grif is back, Wash gets shot and everything is in disarray. But maybe Grif and Simmons can work shit out during a quiet night back on Chorus.





	Good To Be Back

**Author's Note:**

> hello hello hello!! this is a secret santa gift for super-ultra-nova on tumblr!! i hope u enjoy this!! also im sorry if this is OOC but i dont read much grimmons nor have i ever written rvb fic before so i apologize!!

Admittedly, knocking Jax out wasn’t their best plan of action, even though it was pretty funny. But they already had two knocked-out Freelancers on their hands and even if Jax wasn’t the best fighter, it was still better to have more men against the assorted groups of Reds and Blues. And alright, maybe it would have been nice to take Simmons’s face into his hands and smooch a little but goddamn, this Jax dude was annoying with his constant blabbering about movies and camera shots and shit no one understood anyway. Maybe unconsciousness would be good for him.

 

“Definitely not good for my back,” Grif grumbled under his breath while struggling to support Jax on his shoulder. Turns out, having a bunch of camera equipment in your armor didn’t help to make it weigh less. Or make it less clunky for that matter.

 

“Did you say something?” Simmons asked from his right, peering around Jax’s unconscious body. At first he had slightly freaked out when Grif had just punched the camera man but eventually agreed that it was way more quiet without him running around, getting into positions for things that weren’t ever going to happen. 

 

“Nah, dude, I’m good.” Grif answered and he could feel Simmons shrug with the shoulder he was supporting Jax on. His emotional outburst of sorts had made things between them … different, even over this short amount of time. Walking through the halls of the base, Grif could clearly tell that Simmons wanted to say something and he is sure that if Jax hadn’t interrupted them, he would know what that something was right now. But it didn’t matter; what mattered was that Grif was back with his team and that they were going to leave  _ right now. _

 

***

 

They did not, in fact, leave right then. Between Wash getting shot, finding out the stupidly ridiculous plan Temple had manufactured and putting a stop to said plan, there wasn’t a lot of time for Grif to take a step back and truly think about this situation. And honestly? He’s so used to not doing so that the thought didn’t even occur to him until they were safely back on Chorus.

 

But being stuck on a moon completely alone gives you a lot of time to think. And Grif actually took that time to think really hard. About himself and his past, his friends and family,  _ everything,  _ until he eventually ran out of thoughts. And at the end of all that, he realized that he would rather be stuck with a bunch of people whom he hated and who hated him back than spend an indefinite amount of time by himself. 

 

As it was however, Grif still needed a bit of down-time. After the events of this busy, busy day, he found himself standing on the balcony of the house they had been given for their time on Chorus. He was blowing smoke into the dark of night and just let his thoughts wander. So much had happened since he had got back and he couldn’t really sort it all in after so much nothingness. It was honestly quite overwhelming. Overwhelming but  _ very  _ welcome.

 

Grif heard Simmons before he saw him. The dude may have thought he was sneaky but his bare feet made enough noises for Donut to hear without his hearing aids. And even if he had worn socks, Grif could have identified the mechanical whirring of his arm anywhere. But still, he didn’t say anything until Simmons had come to a stop by his side.

 

“You know I don’t like it when you smoke. They’re my lungs after all.” Oh, what a classic Simmons conversation starter. But for once in his fucking life, Grif wasn’t in the mood to sarcastically snark back. He didn’t know if it was the quiet of the night or something equally as gay, but his wandering thoughts had kept going back to their conversation a few days ago and the weird tension between them that they couldn’t seem to shake off.

 

“Grif?” Apparently he had been quietly staring into the night for too long, because Simmons’s tone had changed from mild annoyance to worry. Grif let out one last breath and then threw the bud of the cigarette off the balcony before turning around to look at the other. He was wearing one of his old university t-shirts and his hair stuck up in several directions, indicating that he had been sleeping prior to this. Weird how well you got to know some people.

 

“Yeah?” Grif finally responded, going for a neutral tone but instead missing heavily and rather sounding way too melancholic. 

 

“Is everything alright? You usually only stay up this late to eat the leftovers but considering we didn’t eat here nor that this is the kitchen, this seems wrong.” Grif shrugged and leaned his elbows onto the railing of the balcony. He felt Simmons hesitate before doing the same, glancing onto the street below them. 

 

“It’s pretty high up, isn’t it?” Simmons said for a lack of having anything better to say but when Grif next to him sighed heavily, it became clear that this wasn’t going to be a late night conversation filled with random chit-chat. Not that those ever were.

 

“Look, Simmons. This whole weird atmosphere thing between us? It needs to stop. It’s weirding me out because it has never happened and I know what caused it so I’m just gonna say: I’m sorry for dumping all of that shit on you. I knew you didn’t wanna hear it but I still told you and it was stupid. I’m sorry.” The quiet that stretched between them went on for way too long.  _ Great Grif, you’ve fucking done it again. Fucked things up once again. Go you. _

 

“What the fuck are you apologizing for?” Simmons eventually answered. And until that sentence broke through Grif’s self-deprecating thoughts, it took a few seconds and for them to actually sink in took a bunch more but eventually Grif turned to Simmons with a confused expression.

 

“What do you mean? I told you, dude, I’m sorry for dumping all that useless shit on you.” But this only made Simmons look even … sadder? Shit, was he sad?  _ Why  _ was he sad? 

 

“It’s- It’s not useless, I just … I never knew you felt that way,” came the quiet answer. Now Simmons and Grif were stuck just looking at each other, sad and confused respectively, before Grif shook his head.

“It doesn’t matter anyway. I’m back now and we can all go back to how it was before.” The ‘including you and me’ was left unspoken but they both knew it was there. Quiet, again. 

 

They were still staring at each other, Grif half-leaning on the railing while Simmons was standing and fidgeting with his fingers. He was also doing this thing with his eyes that had only happened the few times that Grif had caught him punching mirrors back at Blood Gulch, the thing where they were really big and super sad and Grif couldn’t fucking figure out why they were doing that. Was Simmons in pain? Did he punch a mirror again? He quickly looked down at Simmons’s hands but they weren’t cut or bleeding. Well, one of them wasn’t anyway, the other one literally couldn’t bleed.

 

“Grif, I …” Simmons started but trailed off. He was looking into Grif’s eyes as if they held the answer to everything but apparently he didn’t find what he was looking for because he slightly turned away and started to play around with the hem of his shirt. “I- I never knew you felt that way.” The sentence was so quiet that it was almost a whisper, as if it was just a thought Grif wasn’t meant to hear.

 

“Yeah, dude, you already told me. I’m-”

 

“Don’t. Stop saying you’re sorry.” Simmons had turned back around and now his eyes had stopped doing The Thing but his brows were still furrowed. “I don’t know what you think you need to be apologizing for but you don’t. I don’t care what it is.” 

 

“But I left ‘cause I was being selfish, it was fucked up.”

 

“No, it fucking wasn’t! What is fucked up though is the way we’re treating you without thinking about your feelings!” Simmons was basically yelling before grabbing onto Grif’s arms and making him stand upright.  _ And very close to himself _ , Grif noted as he had to tilt his head further back to look at Simmons. 

 

“You shouldn’t fucking be the hate glue because that’s not how friendship works!” He slightly shook Grif and his fingers dug into Grif’s skin almost painfully. That’s when he apparently caught himself, let his grip grow lighter and he blushed slightly before looking down onto the ground.

 

“I wish you would have told me sooner, Dex.” Simmons’s voice was back to almost a whisper and that was what hit Grif the most. He could deal with anger directed at himself but this sadness and worry that was seeping into the other’s voice, the way he had called him ‘Dex’; it made his heart feel painfully tight. 

 

“Simmons, I-” Grif didn’t even know what he wanted to say but thankfully, he didn’t have to stutter around to make a full sentence because Simmons suddenly pulled him against his chest in a hug. It caught Griff off guard and he wasn’t sure if he was supposed to make a stupid quip about this or just stand there awkwardly and wait until it was over, but he decided not to do any of those things and instead let himself hug back. It was a bit awkward because of their height difference but they eventually made it work so that Grif’s face was turned to the side instead of beings smushed into Simmons’s shoulder. 

 

And so they stood there for a while in a silence that finally didn’t feel as heavy anymore. Sure, there were still a lot of things on Grif’s mind about all of this fucked up mess but the closeness of another person, a person with whom he had shared more than the last decade of his life, made his mind calm down. The thought that he could stay in this position forever startled him at first, but then it only made sense. This was fucking nice and if Grif just ignored the thoughts of pulling away slightly and pressing a kiss to Simmons’s neck, then this was perfect.

 

After what felt like a blissful eternity, Simmons started to pull away and Grif resigned himself to thinking about this hug for the next ten years but then and there he decided  _ ‘Fuck it’  _ and only moved away slightly, keeping his hands around the other’s waist. The only sign that Simmons had taken notice of this was the slight darkening of his cheeks and his hands moving back to Grif’s shoulders. They stared at each other for a while before Grif genuinely smiled. And if his heart pumped a little bit faster when Simmons smiled back, well, no one had to know that.

 

“I hope that was alright, I don’t really know if a hug was the right way to go but I don’t know how to put this shit into words so this was the best I could do.” Simmons explained and looked back down to hide his deepening flush. “But I just want you to know that I don’t want you to be the hate glue.” And then for the second time that night Dexter Grif thought  _ ‘Fuck it’ _ and moved one of his hands from Simmons’s waist to his cheek, moved forward and placed a quick kiss onto the corner of his mouth. 

 

It took a few seconds but eventually Simmons’s eyes grew big and he looked at Grif with a look he didn’t understand and Grif almost started berating himself in his head again but then Simmons moved forward and suddenly  _ his  _ lips were touching  _ Grif’s  _ and Grif’s eyes slipped closed and the only thing he felt was their skin touching. The kiss felt really,  _ really  _ nice; their lips moving together kind of awkwardly at first but eventually they found a rhythm that worked. One of Simmons’s hands found its way into his hair and Grif’s hand still resting on Simmons’s waist had moved around to rest on the small of his back and Grif decided that if he died right now, he wouldn’t particularly mind.

 

But everything good has to end at some point because you run out of air and they pulled apart slowly. Grif didn’t want to open his eyes just yet but when he felt Simmons press a kiss against his cheek, he slipped one open to see the most sincere, open and  _ happy  _ expression he had ever seen.

 

“You alright there?” Simmons asked with a smile which Grif couldn’t help but return.

 

“Nah, your amazing kissing skills have put me into a coma.” Grif put more weight into Simmons’s grip as if he was falling but the other’s surprised spluttering and squeaky “Grif!” made him stop. They were both laughing at this point and nearly missed the quiet “Awww…” coming from inside the building. They both tensed and looked over to the balcony door to see fucking Donut out of all people standing there in his plush bath robe.

 

“What the fuck, Donut?” Grif regained his composure first, but didn’t let go of Simmons who was pressing his forehead into Grif’s shoulder and probably blushing enough to make a tomato jealous. 

 

“Guys, I’m so happy for you two! I’ve been waiting for this basically since I was stationed at Blood Gulch. I was honestly surprised to find out you two weren’t together already!” Donut gushed excitedly while clasping his hands together. Grif rolled his eyes and Simmons made a series of squeaky noises, probably trying to voice his disagreement. Or something.

 

“Donut, shut the fuck up and go back to your room.” Even his disgruntled tone didn’t stop Donut from smiling like a madman and wiggling his upper body for a while before stepping back into the flat.

 

“Night guys! Remember to try and get  _ some  _ sleep, we have a busy day ahead of us!” With that, he slid the balcony door closed and Grif made sure his teammate was walking back into his room before sighing and turning his attention back to Simmons, who was … shaking?

 

“Simmons, dude, are you alright?” Simmons was also still squeaking for some reason and it took Grif some time to figure out that he was laughing. Honest to God, giggling like a schoolgirl but also kind of ugly snorting. Once Grif got over his initial surprise, he joined in because this situation was pretty damn hilarious.

 

“This is just fucking typical, getting caught making out on the balcony.” Simmons rolled his eyes once he had moved away from resting his head on Grif’s shoulder.

 

“At least it was Donut; just imagine if it had been Sarge. He would have shot me on the spot or some shit.”

 

“‘Captain Simmons, I would have expected better from you!’” Simmons exclaimed in a very bad Sarge impression which was honestly adorable, albeit seriously the fucking worst. Wash still did the best Sarge impression. They should get him to do that again sometime. Nonetheless Grif snorted at Simmons who shot back a shy smile.

 

“Donut’s probably right tho, we should get some sleep.” Simmons added and Grif nodded. It was probably way too late for them to get a proper night’s sleep but when had he ever said no to sleeping? Before leaving the balcony however, Grif did another thing that he had been wanting to do for years now. While he pushed open the glass door, he also slipped his hand into Simmons’s and grasped it tightly. At first Simmons didn’t react but then Grif felt his fingers wrap around his hand. They both smiled to themselves while tracking down the corridor to their rooms. When they came to the door to Grif’s room, they stopped to look at each other and with a reassuring smile, Grif opened the door and pulled Simmons inside.

 

***

 

In the morning, Grif woke up to the sun already shining in through the window and a warm body pressed to his chest. He smiled as his mind slowly became less sluggish and he remembered the night prior. When he opened one of his eyes, he saw ginger hair and a freckled neck with some metal plating running along the left side. He couldn’t stop himself from pressing a kiss to the back of Simmons’s head and relished in the slightly squeaky noise that came from the other.

 

“Good morning,” Grif rumbled in a sleepy deep voice while Simmons turned around in his arms so that they were looking at each other.

 

“Morning,” He greeted back with a timid smile which Grif wholeheartedly returned before pressing a kiss to Simmons’s lips. Just because he could do that now. And maybe because he knew that the reaction would be funny. Which it was.

 

“Grif! You have morning breath!” Grif only chuckled and moved in for another kiss but Simmons pressed a hand to his shoulder and safe to say, they spent a solid five minutes playfully wrestling in bed and giggling every so often until there was a loud knock on the door.

 

“Hey lovebirds, I made pancakes so get your asses out of there before Caboose eats them all,” came Tucker’s voice from outside the door.

 

“I would never do that!” Caboose yelled from the kitchen right before what sounded like a plate fell to the floor and he yelled “Tucker did it!”

 

“Goddamnit, Caboose, you can’t say that when I’m right here!” Tucker’s footprints moved back into presumably the kitchen and Grif snorted.  _ Fucking blue team. _

 

“Well, you heard the man, let’s go get pancakes.” He untangled himself from the blanket and got out of the bed. He stretched a little while he waited for Simmons to get up and was halfway through the door when the other spoke up.

 

“Hold up.” Grif turned around with a half-confused expression and half of an expression that hopefully conveyed “But the pancakes, Simmons!” but Simmons remained seated on the bed. “‘Lovebirds?’ How did he even know I was in here?” Grif rolled his eyes fondly.

 

“Donut probably told them all already, you know how much he loves to gossip.” He explained with a shrug but when he saw Simmons look down onto the floor, he moved back to the bed. “Hey, it’s not that big of a deal, right? They were bound to find out anyway. Unless …” He trailed off, hoping that Simmons wouldn’t catch up on what he had almost said. But apparently he did, because his head jerked up.

 

“No, no, that’s not it!” He quickly exclaimed with a shaking head. “It’s just … overwhelming, I guess. I was hoping to keep this on the downlow for a while, y’know, to get used to it?” The blush from last night was back and Grif felt immensely relieved. Why did he fall for this fucking nerd? 

 

“Well, when have we ever kept anything on the downlow? We’re doing this in true Reds and Blues fashion.” He then took Simmons’s hands in his and pulled him up from the bed and to the door. “Let’s go get those pancakes.” 

 

They walked into the kitchen together, still holding hands, to see everyone, obviously excluding Carolina and Wash, already seated at the table and devouring pancakes. When Sarge looked up from his cup, he and Grif looked at each other for a few seconds before Sarge sighed.

 

“Simmons, I always thought you could do better but honestly? I am not surprised. At least it ain’t one of them blues.” Grif felt Simmons next to him visibly relax and he pressed his hand quickly. But even through the jab at Blue Team, Grif knew that Sarge was almost as worried about Wash and Carolina as Tucker.

 

“What took you two so long anyway? Threw in one last quickie before breakfast?” Speaking of the devil. Tucker was leaning onto the counter, datapad and fork in hand. He clearly tried to act calm but the way his eyes kept glancing to the datapad and back betrayed him. He was probably keeping an eye on a conversation between himself and Grey.

 

“I fucking hate you.” Grif replied when he and Simmons had sat down. At this rate, Simmons was going to die from a heatstroke because he was burning up again.  _ This is going to be a long day, _ Grif decided.

 

“Well, I just think this is swell! It’s already taken so long.” Donut was still smiling, probably hadn’t stopped since last night, but he was also bouncing his leg underneath the table. 

 

“Me too, Private Buttercup! I have been saying that they would make a great couple for years!” Caboose had somehow fit his entire form onto his chair and had his knees drawn up to his chest but he was still smiling widely at Grif and Simmons. Grif sighed and looked around the room and let his gaze rest on Simmons. 

  
Sure, this thing fucking sucked and they would go right back to the hospital as soon as breakfast was done, but for now things were fucking nice. He was back with his team, most importantly he was back at Simmons’s side and this time it better be for lifetime, and the sun was shining through the window and there were pancakes. Grif leaned over to Simmons and pressed a syrupy kiss to his cheek and to the sounds of Tucker pretending to throw up, Donut’s delighted squeals and the spluttering of Simmons he thought:  _ Damn, it’s good to be back. _

**Author's Note:**

> i hope u enjoyed this!! thank u so much for reading and happy holidays to everyone!!


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